


Agent of Mara

by missema



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Crack, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Humor, Matchmaking, Misunderstandings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war ends and Alduin is defeated, Jarl Balgruuf turns his attention to matters closer to home.  His younger brother Hrongar is in love with Balgruuf's housecarl, Irileth.  Both warriors refuse to acknowledge their feelings, and Balgruuf exhausts his options as a matchmaker.  Undeterred, he prays to Mara for help, but he isn't the only one in Whiterun looking for assistance from the goddess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He watched her red eyes as they followed the other man around the room, as she stared at the warrior, dressed in armor.  The warrior was his brother, Hrongar, and Jarl Balgruuf had long since known that his trusted housecarl and friend Irileth was in love with his younger brother.  He'd tried to discuss the situation with both of the separately, but like two stubborn mules, neither could be convinced that the other returned the affection.  For two people so brave in battle, they were much less so when faced with a different foe.  
  
Sitting on this throne in Dragonsreach, Balgruuf was weary with the fatigue of an endless battle fought on multiple fronts.  Since the swords had been laid down, he'd been protecting and rebuilding, caring for his people and preparing them for the next conflict.  His family hadn't fared well after the battle to defend Whiterun, and his country had just begun to long process towards healing from the schism that tore families apart and pitted neighbors against each other.  The Dragonborn had ended Ulfric's rebellion, saving his city in the process.  With Ulfric dead, his Stormcloaks were fading into a memory, and Skyrim was reunified, but nothing ever came without cost.  Dragons still soared around the skies, but they no longer lived in fear of Alduin, the World-Eater, for she had gone to Sovngarde and defeated him, giving the souls there rest.  A snarl twitched at the corner of his mouth, and Balgruuf fought to keep it under control.  When he thought of the Dragonborn, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance.   
  
It had been first pointed out by his court wizard, Farengar, though to be fair, Farengar liked so few people, the Jarl was sure he could name them on one hand.  Anya's presence could be grating, and whenever she bounded in to use Farengar's enchanter or alchemy lab, the man groaned and spent the next day complaining of her, and the mess she'd inevitably leave behind her.  The young Nord woman was, without a doubt annoyingly perky whenever he saw her, no matter what she was facing, and Balgruuf found himself disliking her a little, whatever her prowess in battle.  He hated to admit it, for she was young, and it was such a shameful reason to dislike anyone, but her unfailing good nature and relentlessly sunny attitude had aggravated him more than once during the dark days of the war, having the added effect of making him wonder about her grasp of the situation.  People were dying, and she would come in humming, her warhammer still dripping with the blood of her enemies.  
  
Anya was too cavalier for his liking, and he thought her jovial manner in all matters not serious enough for someone with the honor of dragon's blood.  Cocksure and overconfident, she had a relentless enthusiasm that matched the strength in her, and neither were refined.  There were times during the war when she seemed not to understand the seriousness of it all, what it would have meant if Ulfric had been allowed to become High King, but at the time he'd put it down to her being so very young.  While she was of Nord blood, she was as ignorant of their customs as a foreigner, and had never been to Skyrim before.  She'd never seen his city whole and undivided, bathed in the light of the twin moons, or met his people as one of them.  Their traditions were just stories told her to by parents that had traveled south for whatever reasons, their mead songs her lullabies, meant to soothe and have no meaning.  
  
His time was far too precious to waste it thinking of the Dragonborn, and his Thane had thankfully been absent from his court for some time.  Instead he turned his eyes back to Irileth, wondering for the umpteenth time, what he could do to get her or his brother to see reason.  They would be a good match, he was sure of it, for not only were they both his trusted allies, but they shared a bond, a love of battle and had the same interests.  Even if he hadn't been aware of their mutual attraction, he would consider the match favorable, that they wanted each other simply made it more so.  
  
"Hrongar, we should speak privately."  Balgruuf began, his eyes drifting towards Irileth as he addressed his brother.  
  
"I know what this is about, and I told you, there's nothing more to say on the subject."  
  
"Just hear me out, brother."  
  
"Not unless you have something new to say."  
  
"I do not."  Balgruuf admitted, momentarily defeated.  
  
"Then let it rest."  Hrongar said, finality underscoring his words.  
  
A resigned sigh was the only answer Balgruuf gave, and he knew he couldn't broach the subject again anytime soon without angering his brother.  Hrongar's reluctance was understandable, his first love had died in a battle, and he'd been devastated by the loss.  Balgruuf knew only too well the pain, he'd mourned publicly for a year after his wife was lost to disease, and privately well beyond that.  When the mother of his youngest son died birthing the boy, he swore off such liaisons for himself, but Hrongar was a younger man, and had no heirs.  A wife who understood him would do him good, and hopefully bring back some of the joy for life he lost with his young love.  
  
Balgruuf sat, his mind wandering as he went through the issues brought before him by Proventus.  Though he'd failed to convince his brother once again, Balgruuf had a backup plan.  He was going to pray to Lady Mara and ask for her Divine help in resolving the matter with Irileth and Hrongar.  He had heard rumors that the Divine had a priest that could truly hear their prayers, that people across Skyrim were being aided.  Igmund in Markarth said that his housecarl was now with his Court Wizard, after the man had prayed to Mara for help, and he knew Igmund as a man of sound mind, not given to creating stories.  He had no assurances that Mara would hear or answer his prayers, but he had to try.  There was little enough happiness in life without denying what could be found out of fear of rejection.   
  
#####  
  
Anya was shopping in the Markarth marketplace, having a friendly chat with Kerah when a courier rushed up to her.  A note from Dinya Balu at the temple of Mara bade her come back to Riften, for there was an urgent need for her.  As Mara's agent, she was bound to return there at her earlier convenience.  She'd planned to stay in Markarth for a few more days, looking over her maps with her housecarl Argis and clearing out more Forsworn for the Jarl.  Though the war was over, and Alduin's tyranny ended, Skyrim was far from peace, and she continued doing what she could to help.   
  
It had been quite a while since her travels had taken her to Riften, for she'd been in the north before she'd gone west.  She was looking forward to helping the Dark Elf priestess once more, her heart soared when she saw Faleen and Calcelmo together, the two of them united by Mara at last.  
  
"Argis, I've got to head to Riften."  Anya called out as she entered her house.  
  
"Riften?  I thought we were going to go head into the hills."  Her scarred and tattooed housecarl looked confused, for they'd been planning together for days.  
  
"I got an urgent message from a priestess at the Temple of Mara.  She wants to see me."  
  
"Ah, you're needed to help more lovers in love across Skyrim."  Argis smirked at her, leaning against the table.   
  
"It would seem so.  Anyway, it shouldn't be a big deal.  I'll go alone and send word when I'll be back.  I expect we'll be fighting half-naked Forsworn before you know it."  Anya said, reassuring him.  
  
"Safe travels, my Thane."  Argis replied, smiling at her small joke.  Anya could tease a smile from him most days, and he was glad to have someone so companionable as his Thane.  They were becoming friends, and he would be glad to defend her with his life, whenever she let him.  
  
In the carriage to Riften, she idly wondered where she'd be going and whom she'd be helping.  Though she'd helped ghosts before, she rather liked helping living people and hoped that those that needed her were at least corporeal this time.  The carriage driver had taken her between cities before, and instead of the normal smalltalk, they launched into a rendition of Ragnar the Red before they'd even pulled away from Markarth, the two of the singing loudly.  Anya relaxed happily in the cart as she settled in for the long ride to The Rift.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you sure that's right?"  Anya asked as she looked down at the paper Dinya Balu handed her.  "I mean, this can't be."  She was dumbfounded by what she saw there, the people she was supposed to help.  
  
"Lady Mara never errs.  The information is correct.  I suggest you get there and find out the situation for yourself."  
  
"Sure."  Anya answered absently, still reeling from shock.  "I will do Mara's bidding."  She added, before leaving the Temple.  She honestly couldn't believe what she had in her hand.   A message from Mara to help Lydia and Balgruuf in Whiterun.  Anya hoped that they weren't praying for each other, it would be very strange indeed to help her housecarl and the Jarl get together.  
  
After a quick trip to Whiterun, Anya ran towards her own house, anticipation speeding her step.  She couldn't decide whether or not to giggle, and she gave in once she'd firmly closed her door.  It was almost too funny, having to come to her own home to do Mara's bidding, but she guessed that everyone prayed to Mara at least once, even her housecarl.  
  
"Lydia?"  Anya called out, heading upstairs.  
  
"Honored to see you, my Thane."    
  
"Did you pray to Lady Mara?"  Anya asked, and Lydia's eyes lighting up at the question.  
  
"She sent you!  I can't believe it, she heard me and sent you!  This is a good sign."  Lydia squealed, her normally calm exterior forgotten.  
  
"Hold on a minute."  Anya said, holding out her hands to stop Lydia from embracing her.  "Tell me what you need first."  She didn't want to say, _please don't be praying for the Jarl, because I think he doesn't like me and it would be just weird._  
  
"Farengar."  Lydia breathed the name with the breathless adoration of someone completely smitten.    
  
"What, seriously?"  
  
"Well, I've known him for a while, but when I was first made your housecarl, I was in Dragonsreach most of the time, and we got to be friends.  Sometimes I go up there to visit him, but he's very busy."  Lydia said, smiling absently.   
  
"And now you want to be more than friends, correct?"  Lydia nodded and Anya gave into the giggles once more.  "Well, this, I think I can do this."  Anya said, getting Lydia to laugh too.  "Tell me about what's been going on between you two."  She said, sitting down.  
  
Lydia shrugged, still smiling, "I just like him, once you get past his defenses, he's quite sweet.  He's busy with his dragon research though.  Say if you go up there and talk to him on my behalf, take some dragon bones or something up to him.  He'd really like that."  
  
"I can do that."  Anya said, thinking of Calcelmo and Faleen.  She'd bought that poem for them, and it helped ease the way, so maybe dragon bones would do it for Farengar and Lydia.  
  
 _At least_ , Anya thought to herself later, _I can go to Dragonsreach and see what Balgruuf wants while I am visiting Farengar_.  Promising to go to Dragonsreach in the morning, she settled in to bed for the night, happy for Lydia.  It was strange to see the warrior woman so obviously infatuated, but it was also oddly sweet, giving Anya a pang in her chest.  She brushed it aside, as she often did with her own loneliness and focused on helping people.  If she stayed positive and helped the people of Skyrim, they would respect her as a leader, and look to her when times were bad.  It was true they thought her a hero already, so she tried to remain open and approachable, and do her part to solve problems, though she had to admit, ending a civil war and fighting dragons was exhausting enough.  
  
Early the next morning, Anya found herself standing before Jarl Balgruuf in his private quarters with her arms crossed over her chest as she listened to him explained why he called upon Mara.  He hadn't exactly been thrilled to see her when she came in, but she announced that Mara heard his prayer and that she was here to help, and he hustled her away from his throne, sushing her as they walked quickly towards his bed chambers.  
  
"I wasn't praying for myself, but rather my brother Hrongar and Irileth."  
  
It was the second time since she'd returned to Whiterun that she'd been completely shocked.  "The two of them, together?"  Anya thought about it for a moment and then smiled.  "Yeah, I can see how they'd be a good match."  
  
Balgruuf looked annoyed with her, though Anya wasn't sure what she'd done.  "I'm so glad I have your approval, Dragonborn."  He sniffed, before going on, "The trouble is, neither one of them are willing to take the risk to get together.  There's something between them, but no one will make that important first move."  
  
"They need an impetus."  She said sagely, thinking aloud.  
  
"Exactly.  And Hrongar is tired of me badgering him on the matter.  Likewise Irileth won't speak about it.  I've come to the end of my capabilities, but you could help them perhaps, give them some encouragement straight from the goddess."  
  
"Absolutely!"  Anya replied cheerily, to which Balgruuf gave her a wan smile.    
  
No matter how much she tried to be upbeat, she never seemed to impress Jarl Balgruuf.  After her first few visits, he seemed to grow increasingly disdainful of her, and gave her pitying smiles whenever she spoke up.  She gave it up as hopeless, and resigned herself to working with the grumpy Nord for the time being.  At least he wasn't the one she needed to match up - it would make things a lot easier now that she knew whom to deal with.  
  
Irileth was her first stop, but despite having fought beside the Dunmer woman, she was reluctant to open up to Anya.  She tried to draw her out by talking first about battle, then about the soldiers in Whiterun, but Irileth eyed her suspiciously, not contributing to the conversation.  She answered only when she needed to, and mostly ignored Anya's babbling.  
  
"Why should I tell you anything?"  Irileth hissed when Anya tried to casually ask about Hrongar.  
  
"Well...I don't know.  I thought maybe he was..."  Anya trailed off, not able to think of a suitable ending for the sentence.  
  
Irileth's eyes narrowed at her.  "Are you interested in him, sera?"  
  
"What?  No!  Oh, no, not like that.  He's very handsome and all of that, but not my type.  I just meant that when I've been here, I've seen him looking at you."  Anya was mucking this up already.  She drew herself up and then recalculated her moves, leaning in towards Irileth conspiratorially.  "He watches you, you know, but there's respect too.  It's not as if he's simply sizing you up."  
  
Her words seemed to calm Irileth somewhat, but the woman was still not willing to talk.  "This is neither the time or the place."  She answered, looking around them.  "Perhaps another time."  
  
Anya took the opening for what it was, nodding at Irileth.  "Another time then."  Walking slowly away, she went towards Farengar's alcove without thinking.  This was proving to be much more difficult than her first few assignments for Mara.  Dragonsreach seemed to instill stubbornness in its inhabitants, and an immunity to good cheer.  They were all so sullen and miserable, she wondered if even she could break through.  
  
"Farengar, don't you ever get lonely?"  Anya asked, picking up a soul gem and inspecting it.  
  
"Certainly not.  I find my work very fulfilling."  He walked over to her and plucked the soul gem from her hands, putting it back on the table where she'd found it.  
  
"So do I, but there are plenty of times when I want companionship, even understanding.  My housecarls have become my friends in that regard."  Anya started, evasively.  "There might be someone in Whiterun who understands and respects your research, someone to talk to over dinner."  
  
"I don't want to have dinner with you."  Farengar stated flatly.  
  
"Shor's bones, I don't want to have dinner with you either."  Anya burst out, exasperated.  "By the grace of Mara, it's not me.  Just here, Lydia asked me to bring you these for your experiments, she thought you might like them."  She said, shoving a few dragon bones and scales at him.  
  
Anya stomped out of Dragonsreach, frustrated with herself for losing her temper, but fuming at everyone in the building.  They could all just rot for all she cared.  Never in her life had she met such a stubborn bunch of mules.


	3. Chapter 3

Anya needed time to think of her next step before she could go back to Dragonsreach, much to Lydia's annoyance.  She'd explained the fiasco of the day before to her housecarl, and the woman had insisted that Anya try again, but there was a need to step back and reassess her failure before pushing onward.  Instead she walked around Whiterun and stopped in at Jorrvaskr, but she needed a plan before she could go back there.  Something that would help her keep her cool when faced with the impossible task of making them listen to her words as an agent of Mara.  
  
Her mind was as blank as an empty canvas, and she walked about talking to the citizens of Whiterun and trading her goods, the interactions reminding her of why she was so found of the city.  There was a liveliness, a hardiness and a sense of history found that lived within the people, the stones beneath their feet, the modest houses so typical of the Nords, that it warmed her, even as they struggled to rebuild.  The city bore obvious signs of suffering since the battle, though it had been months before.  In the center of the city the Gildergreen bloomed, adding much needed brightness and a reminder of life to the beleaguered city.  Ulfric's flaming catapults had left deep scars, the burnt shells of houses still littering the landscape.  Anya decided to help Danica Pure-Spring in the Temple of Kynareth, healing some of the sick and wounded people therein.  If she couldn't help Mara today, she could at least serve another and do some good in the city to make up for her lack of patience the day before.  
  
Traces of the battle to defend Whiterun lingered in the temple, where the aged and infirm were joined by the soldiers that still bore wounds.  Upon entering, the smell of sickness hung thickly the air, and Anya was immediately greeted by the tired smile one of the over-worked priests, who welcomed her help.  There were precious few healers in Skyrim and even less after the civil war.  The work in the temple was far from mindless, and Anya found in concentrating on problems other than the ones facing her, she gained clarity.  When Danica no longer had need of her, she would go back to Farengar and set that right first, Lydia was awaiting some word about her efforts with the wizard, and if she could remain calm, she might be able to make things right.  It took her longer than she'd planned, and it was late in the evening before she was able to mount the many steps to the palace.  
  
Balgruuf spent the day in a foul temper, brought on by the Dragonborn, or at least, the fallout from her actions.  She'd promised that she'd help him, but apart from a short conversation that left Irileth fairly confused, she hadn't come back or done anything.  It began early in the day, and lasted well into it, making him more irritable than usual as he presided over business.  Proventus, though unsure of the cause of the distress, did his best not to raise the level of ire in his jarl, though his efforts had limited success.  As Balgruuf ate his evening meal, he fumed, wondering when she would show her face again.  It wasn't supposed to be an easy task, he knew that, but he didn't think she should give up this soon.  He thought that the goddess would pick someone better at these things, with more experience in love, but for some unknown reason Anya had been brought to him, inexperienced and ill-suited to the task.  
  
Truthfully, he wouldn't have been half as annoyed if Farengar hadn't come storming out of his office at the start of the day, red-faced and angry, ranting about the Dragonborn.  Farengar had a way of continuously grousing under his breath long after he was done complaining that tended to irritate Balgruuf.  On a normal day, the wizard was caustic and sarcastic, but when he'd perceived an injustice had been done - he was insufferable.  Quite insufferable, and he couldn't wait to share the source of his bad mood.  
  
"She threw dragon bones at me!  I said I didn't want to have dinner with her and she got upset and left.  I can't work with these kinds of interruptions!"  He ranted, his mage's hood slipping down his head as he grew more and more angry, sputtering and shouting about all that he had to endure.  
  
"Settle down, Farengar.  I'll speak with the Dragonborn."  Balgruuf soothed, but he'd expected her to come bouncing back into his Keep sometime that morning, and laugh at his concerns.  That she stayed away made Farengar's accusations seem a little less far-fetched, though it didn't seem like her to get mad at his rejection.  He knew so little about her outside of her duty and service with the Legion that he couldn't say either way, and he wondered if she were even looking for a husband, though Farengar seemed ill-suited to her.  She seemed too young to get married, he doubted she'd seen more than twenty years, putting her age closer to that of his children than his own.  Balgruuf felt his own age at the thought, and resentment that this _disruptive child_ could be so powerful, so necessary filled him.  
  
It was evening when he finally saw her again, and Balgruuf was none too happy at the circumstances.  A guard came up to him at the conclusion of his dinner, and bent to whisper hurriedly in his ear, the message making Balgruuf pound his fist against the table in frustration.   
  
"We caught the Dragonborn snooping in Hrongar's quarters.  She insisted that she be allowed to speak with you privately, and a guard is holding her in your chambers."  The man informed him in a worried voice.  
  
"Snooping?  That sounds like her."  He said, pushing away from the table with a frustrated snarl on his face.  Balgruuf made his way up there, where a guard was standing in his bedroom with the Dragonborn behind him.  They both began to talk at once.  
  
"My Jarl, this woman was trespassing - "  
  
"I'm a Thane, damn it, and I just was trying to get do what I've been asked!"  
  
Balgruuf shook his head, wishing for nothing but an end to this ridiculousness, and dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand.  He and Anya were alone together, and he turned the full force of his annoyance on her.  "What do you think you're doing?!  First Farengar tells me you've been throwing dragon bones at him, and now you were caught going through my brother's things?  What next, Dragonborn?  Would you like to question my staff one by one?"  
  
"I was just dropping something off for Farengar!  If he wasn't so thick-headed, maybe he'd understand what they were for.  As for being in your brother's room, he's impossible to talk to.  I needed something about him that I could understand before I could approach him."  
  
Though her arguments made sense, Balgruuf sighed heavily and fixed Anya with a stern look.  "You can't just go around trespassing, no matter what you're reasons are.  Be careful, Dragonborn.  No one knows of your...assignment but I, and it is best we not reveal it at the moment.  Not while both Irileth and Hrongar are so resistant to admitting their feelings."  
  
"I'm sorry.  Lashing out at Farengar was a mistake, and I shouldn't have let him get under my skin."  She apologized stiffly.  "It wasn't malicious, any of it.  I guess the last time I did this for Mara, it was just a lot easier.  Don't worry, I'll figure it out."  She added cheerfully.  
  
"I'll speak with Farengar, and perhaps calm him down."  He said, and she nodded. "But stop this.  It shouldn't look as though I favor you above others.  The guards will talk, which will lead to idle gossip amongst my people."  
  
"Well, I'd hate for people to get the wrong idea about us, especially when you don't even like me."  Anya finished for him, in a falsely sweet voice.  
  
Balgruuf blanched, then colored at her correct assessment.  Attempting to brush aside her accusation, he tried to explain, but nothing coherent came to mind, and he stammered a weak apology as she pushed past him.  "Save your breath, Balgruuf.  I'm only here to help, and I don't care what you think of me."  Anya informed him as a parting gift.  
  
Feeling especially chastened, Balgruuf let her leave, giving her enough time to depart his palace before going to check on Farengar.  The wizard was sitting in his chair, a book open in front of him, parchment next to it as he took notes.   
  
"Farengar, I just spoke with Anya, and she conveys her apologies."  
  
Was it just his imagination or was Farengar _blushing_?  "Heh.  Well, yes, I saw her myself, before we took our meal.  I may have overreacted a little to her last visit.  She dropped off a letter explaining the intent, and I misunderstood.  It's fine now, and I'm going to meet her for dinner tomorrow night."  
  
"You're going to dinner with Anya?"  
  
"No, sorry, in my excitement, I got ahead of myself.  She was giving me those bones things because Lydia wanted me to have them.  For my research into the resurgence of dragons.  It was so thoughtful of her to mention it to Anya, who is probably the one person that could get me fresh samples.  This letter explained it all, and when I went to see Lydia, I accepted an offer to go out with her for dinner.  Anya was just trying to help."  Farengar finished in a smaller voice, "I have apologized to her for being so savage."  
  
Balgruuf nodded slowly, feeling shame burn within him.  "I should apologize to her, myself."  He muttered, thinking about the way she'd just left his quarters, the closed expression on her face as he'd tried to give his feeble apologies after she'd spoken the truth.  After all she'd done for his city, he bore her no love, but he doubted they would still stand without her efforts.  Her methods weren't what he was expecting, but she did have the blessing of Mara and good intent in her heart.  Tomorrow, he would go and see her, as soon as his schedule allowed.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a group of children surrounding Anya as she sat on the front steps of her house, and Balgruuf wondered exactly what they were doing all clustered around her.  He saw them collectively turn, and saw their furtive faces as tiny hands poked at Anya.  She drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth, but it was behind his left shoulder that he heard her voice.  
  
"Hey, skeever butt!"  Anya's taunting voice sang, and Balgruuf looked over his shoulder in confusion.  
  
The group roared with laughter, but as he drew closer, the ring of kids surrounding her broke and ran, not eager to face him after Anya had somehow insulted him.  The trick was one he would have liked as a younger man, and he simply chuckled as he closed the distance between them.  Though he never would have imagined her playing with children, she had seemed right at home amongst the bevy of youngsters.    
  
She waited on her porch, the red in her hair shining as the sun began to set.  Balgruuf hadn't ever admired her before, but he did now, looking at her powerful form as she waited for him to approach her.  She had light brown skin that hinted at some sort of mixed ancestry, maybe Redguard or Imperial, but her hair was short and fair, blond with small streaks of red.  Her face was cute, cherubic, with an upturned nose and rather small dark eyes that shone expressively.  No, Anya wasn't unattractive in the slightest, though to see her as more than an annoyance took some time, and he hadn't especially noticed before.  
  
"Skeever butt?"  Balgruuf asked once he approached her.  Laughter colored his words as she gave him a wry grin.  
  
"I can use my Thu'um to throw my voice, distract enemies and all."  She explained with a shrug.  "And you might have deserved that."  
  
"Perhaps I did."  Balgruuf agreed, surprised that it was the only name she called him.  "I came to apologize.  You were correct yesterday and I am ashamed of the way I've treated you.  Whiterun owes you a debt, and I owe you several.  Also, I'd like to invite you on a hunt."  
  
"A hunt?"  
  
"Hrongar is leading a group of hunters on the morrow to help replenish the palace stores, and I thought you might want to join them.  My brother might well be more inclined to talk in a different element."  
  
It was one of his more inspired plans, but Hrongar had refused to speak of it again with him and he was running out of options.  The only thing his brother would willingly talk of was the rebuilding efforts, and the needs that concerned his people.  Those things were always weighing on Balgruuf's mind, occupying most of his days and creating work that lasted well into his nights; he didn't need another reminder.    
  
Being stonewalled by Hrongar made him more creative, and he hoped that she would fare better than he had recently.  For the first time since seeing him headed her way, Anya perked up.  "That's a great idea.  I will attend, and hopefully get my plan back on track."  
  
"Good. I know we haven't any right to impose on you further, but I'm sure your presence will also mean a better catch, and for that, all of Dragonsreach and Whiterun will be grateful.  I housed many people during the defense of the city, and we still haven't recovered from it."  
  
The truth sounded like understatement when voiced.  All of Skyrim hadn't recovered from the warring, but he was doing his best to bring new prosperity to his people.  Caught in his own thoughts, Balgruuf didn't look up until he heard a soft creaking noise, and instinctively reached for the axe at his side.  Behind her the door creaked open, and Anya turned her head to address Lydia.  The warrior was standing there in a blue dress, but still armed, and looking flustered.  
  
"Oh, my Jarl, I had no idea that you were here."  She said, bowing her head slightly in his direction.  Balgruuf received it with a nod, and she turned to Anya.  "My Thane, may I borrow this for tonight?  I will return it when I am done."  Lydia asked, dangling a silver sapphire necklace out on two fingers.    
  
"Keep it.  I can make another."  Anya answered, and Lydia smiled, thanking the woman profusely before going back inside.  The casual exchange made him raise his eyebrows, for the gift of a jeweled necklace was no small matter, but Anya had simply given it without thought, citing her ability to make another.  Was she a smith as well as a warrior?  The kindness without pomp or expectation of something in return wasn't something he'd ever expect from her.  In his mind, she was a proud, fierce woman, who made it known how many had fallen to her blade, but he didn't know where that image of her had actually come from.  
  
"Hot date with Farengar."  Anya said by way of explanation, making Balgruuf chuckle again.  
  
"He told me.  I heard you had a hand in it."  
  
"Just doing Mara's bidding is all.  So this hunt, I assume it's tomorrow at dawn?"  
  
He got the feeling that she was deliberately trying to change the subject, and her modesty surprised him.  Surely he would have noticed it before, hadn't she come in after killing that dragon at the Western Watchtower - no, she said it was dead and something happened to her.  He frowned trying to call to mind any time when she'd been bombastic, perhaps after the defense of Whiterun from the Stormcloaks?  Not then, for she'd spoken to him only a little, preferring the company of her fellow legionnaires.  How had it gotten into his head that she was a bit of a braggart?  It was one of those prejudices that once formed was hard to shake, though he didn't know when she'd once claimed glory that wasn't hers, if anything she played down her success.  
  
"Jarl Balgruuf?"  She asked, looking at him strangely.  
  
He had been staring at her, thinking and ignoring her question.  "Oh yes, tomorrow at dawn.  I'll tell Hrongar to expect you."  
  
With that, their conversation was finished and she bade him farewell.  He was consumed with thoughts of Anya, wondering how he'd conflated her actions with stories that seemed nothing like her.  She seemed at odds with his every expectation of her, as though she were determined to change his opinion.  Though it could hardly have been her intention when she ventured to Whiterun at the behest of the priestess of Mara, he was glad that she'd come.  As he walked back to Dragonsreach, he passed Farengar just leaving and the two exchanged nods, silently acknowledging each other without the tedium of words.  The difference in the man without his mage robes and hood pulled low were startling, and he looked pleased with himself as he walked towards the Bannered Mare.  Farengar, for all his snark and self-defensive abrasiveness was kind and insecure, needed the assistance Anya had given him.  Balgruuf turned to watch him, his eager feet leading him down towards the pub, and wondered if the Dragonborn would be able to help Irileth and Hrongar as easily.


	5. Chapter 5

On the morn, Anya rose early and took special care with her weapons and armor. She opted for a sleek, unenchanted ebony bow and arrows instead of her warhammer, but carried a one-handed dwarven sword at her waist, in case she needed it. It had been ages since she'd been on a good hunt and the thrill of it filled her, lightening her step as she went towards Dragonsreach as the sun rose around her.  
  
Lydia was still dozing when Anya left, and the warrior almost regretted not being able to hear about her housecarl's night out right away, but she still had a job to do. Mara couldn't be happy with her lack of progress in helping Hrongar and Irileth, no matter her success with Lydia's date. The thought loomed weightily in her mind, but Anya pushed it aside in her eagerness for the hunt. Dragonsreach was full of warriors, and they nodded their acknowledgment at her as she joined the fringes of their group. It was still very early, and the Jarl's throne sat empty, though Irileth was standing nearby it. The Dunmer was determinedly not looking in Hrongar's direction, but it hadn't stopped the Jarl's brother from looking over at her a few times.  
  
Anya was so engrossed watching them, the interplay between the two, hoping somehow, that Irileth would simply look over and catch the gaze of Hrongar, she didn't noticed Farengar sidle up to her. He looked a little tired, but may have been smiling under the hood of his mage robes - or whatever came close enough to constitute a smile for the cranky man. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything." Farengar said. "Here, take this." He pushed an object into her hands and without further explanation, walked away, back towards his laboratory.  
  
She looked down and smiled at the grand soul gem in her cupped hands, the powerful essence swirling around inside beneath the bluish surface. Not only was it a thoughtful gift, she'd come here many times to buy gems and enchant her weapons, but also a generous one. Farengar must have forgotten his usual annoyance with her, or set it aside in the wake of her aid. She took it as a sign that Farengar and Lydia's date had gone well indeed, or at least was promising enough that Farengar was giving out princely gifts.  
  
A few minutes after she packed her soul gem away, Hrongar was herding their group out the double doors, leading them out of the walled city. Anya kept as close to him as she could, walking quickly to match his long strides. If he noticed her presence or thought it odd, he made no comment on it as they walked together.  
  
On the plains outside the city, they stopped near a Shrine of Talos before going any further. The other hunters accepted the pause without comment, but Anya felt as if she were missing something. It wasn't something she'd ever done before, not even when hunting in groups, but the hunters around her had been expecting the stop. Taking turns, people went up to the statue and touched it, some leaving offerings and saying prayers. If this was a hunting ritual, it was one she knew nothing about.  
  
"Do you worship Talos, Dragonborn? Like a proper Nord should or did they stamp it out of you in Cyrodiil?" Hrongar asked her in a loud voice. Several heads turned towards her to hear the answer. Anger flashed within her, but Anya carefully kept it from showing on her face. Hrongar was testing her, though for what reason, she didn't know. Perhaps he simply didn't like her, as his brother, the Jarl did, disliking her without a reason that was clear to her.  
  
Anya ignored the comment at first, preferring to take out an offering from her pack and place it at the altar before speaking again. She activated the Shrine and straightened up, turning to Hrongar still feeling the magical effects bestowed by the wayshrine.  
  
"I believe no one has the right to tell me what to worship, not elves or men. But yes, I was raised to worship Talos, and still do. I don't like the Empire's stance, but no one can take away my beliefs."  
  
Hrongar nodded, looking her over. "You might just be a true Nord after all."  
  
"I'm so delighted to have your approval." Anya snapped, earning a hearty laugh from him.  
  
"You're using the bow today? No big bloody hammer?" Hrongar laughed again, some of his cronies along with him, testing and teasing her once more. Anya sighed, wearily, hoping that this wasn't going to set the tone for the entire hunt.  
  
Talking to him was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. It crossed her mind that Balgruuf had expected her to fail - but she dismissed the notion. Whatever Balgruuf thought of her, he wanted his brother to be happy, likely not sparing a thought as to just how she was supposed leverage this opportunity to talk.  
  
The hunt went well, though she'd had little time to speak with Hrongar after they stopped at the Shrine of Talos. As they worked at their task, he'd grown more serious, and stopped making jokes at her expense. For her part, she bore the teasing well, laughing at herself when she could, and thought she might have earned some of his respect for a while. When she took a chance to ask him about Irileth, he clammed up again, waving her probing questions away. The only thing he'd said to her about the whole business was that he didn't want to cause a rift, but between whom, he did not say. Back at Dragonsreach, he would speak no more to her, departing at once to oversee the dispersement and handling of their hunted spoils.  
  
Anya was disappointed in herself at the end, watching without a plan as her quarry left to attend to other business with only a nod in her direction. But Irileth seemed to notice and her dark red eyes held questions, her curiosity growing with every glance towards where Anya sat at the table. The morning out had made her hungry, and she'd passed her house on the way, carrying her share of the hunt.  
  
Everyone had been invited to eat at Dragonsreach afterwards, though few besides the Dragonborn took the offer. Others preferred to go home, but she had intended to talk to Hrongar more, until he made himself too busy to talk. Irileth however - she hadn't anticipated the change in her attitude, and she was intrigued by it. Anya, still wary from her last attempt to befriend Irileth, let the woman come over on her own terms. She found herself sitting next to her at the table while they ate, the two of them chewing quietly.  
  
"Farengar says you helped him." Irileth said finally, breaking the silence.  
  
"I did as Lady Mara's priest asked."  
  
"And were successful in your endeavors. Perhaps you can help me."  
  
Anya was careful to hide her smile as she took a drink from her tankard. "I'll do what I can. We should talk sometime - away from here."  
  
"I cannot disregard my duties serah, not even while the Jarl slumbers." Irileth frowned at her, and Anya's mind worked fast, coming up with a solution.  
  
"Then maybe we can talk about this outside, on the porch where I captured Od- the dragon." She caught herself before she said the dragon's name, knowing it would just confuse Irileth. "There are less people out there to overhear us, and you'll only be steps away from Balgruuf's chambers."  
  
"Tonight then." Irileth agreed, then walked quickly back towards the throne she guarded ever so vigilantly.  
  
Perhaps the day wasn't a waste after all, Anya thought to herself. But since she wasn't to meet Irileth until the Jarl was sleeping, she went back home to sleep. The hunt had been taxing and she'd awoken early, rest was needed before she could hatch any more plans to help reluctant lovers.


	6. Chapter 6

Court business ran late that night, and as she found out, the rest of her fellow hunters had gone to the Bannered Mare to drink and celebrate the success of the hunt. Anya wanted to speak to both Irileth and Balgruuf, but Proventus turned her away from the jarl and it was useless to try and persuade the housecarl to leave his side to discuss matters as frivolous as love. With no other obligations left to her, she felt obliged to join the group drinking. They seemed pleased to see her as well, the group welcomed her with a hearty roar as she walked into the the inn. So often, she was alone and being part of a group, of the community in Whiterun was meaningful to Anya. It wasn't that she wasn't a part of groups, the last time she'd truly felt like part of a group was months ago, when she'd joined the College at Winterhold. She was still part of the college, but being Arch-Mage was different than being a student, and she found that leadership demanded she further distance herself, even when she didn't want to. The same thing happened to her with the Companions. It was almost a backwards compliment, destined to rise to the top where she was to be alone.   
  
Anya squeezed onto an already filled bench after warming briefly near the fire. Mead was passed over to her post-haste, and she drank it down gratefully. The gleeful cries and reenactments of their hunt drew her in, and she found herself laughing along with the others, but shaking her head reluctantly when they spoke of her part in it. She was minor, or at least, she wanted her part to be.   
  
Hrongar was there, standing near the bard, his mug lifted as he swayed along to the music. Anya watched him, but didn't approach. She'd spent enough time engaging him for the day, and if she did more, she'd either scare him off or make him defensive. As Mikael's singing washed over her, she sighed. When had she started thinking of people as prey? Perhaps it was the constant meddling, the need to understand and know temperaments. Or it could simply be that that people, humans and elves, weren't much different than dragons.  
  
The other hunters clapped her on the back as she sat amongst them, included her in their toasts, and sang noisily. The group grew louder and more raucous as time went on, but there was no sign of trouble. No fights or squabbles began at all. This was a time for celebration, and desperately needed in the aftermath of the war. When Hulda placed another mug in front of her and waved away her coin, it almost felt like she belonged there. The warm feeling lasted, aided by mead and the collective high spirits of the people around her. Song and talk filled the air, already buzzing with happy energy. The faces of the Whiterun citizenry all came together and blurred, her drunken mind turning them into friends without them actually doing much of anything to earn it. Maybe that was the way it should be.  
  
Cool night air whipped around Anya as she left, but it did little to take the edge off her inebriation. Sodden by good mead and wine of a questionable vintage, she half-stumbled, half-walked back up to Dragonsreach to meet with Irileth. It was a certainty the court had to be finished with their business by that time of night, so they could get some rest and begin again and some ungodly hour. No one could stay up all day and night going over the tedious business of ruling a hold. The thought made her shake her head, thinking of the sleep deprived state of their leadership. It had to be easier to kill dragons and win wars than to keep everything going. Anya thought lovingly of the warhammer on her back, which she didn't dare take off at the moment with her coordination so unsteady. Hitting things was her specialty, not details and nuance and ruling.   
  
Irileth was in the appointed place when Anya arrived, the warmth of the building taking the sting from her cheeks, though she'd hardly felt the cold when she was outdoors. The warmth imparted a sense of urgency within her and she tried to hurry through the keep, hoping that she hadn't missed Irileth. The guards stared at her as she ungainly made her way to the back porch. She could have sworn she heard laughter from underneath one of the helms, but it didn't bother her. With some difficulty, she navigated through the main hall and out the back again, to the place where she'd once caught a dragon. Too bad he wasn't here now, she would like some backup. The thought brought a crooked, wide smile to her face.  
  
Her fear was unfounded, because Irileth was at the appointed place, waiting. The Dumner took one look at the Dragonborn and her face hardened. Anya was drunk, a strike against her in Irileth's eyes, but at least she had shown up.  
  
"Sorry. Sorry I'm late. Proventus sent me away earlier, and then the hunters were at the Bannered Mare celebrating." Anya apologized.  
  
Irileth remained stiff and straight as a rod, but nodded her acceptance of the excuse.  
  
"Why didn't you go over? Hrongar is there." Anya asked, a little too loudly. Irileth winced at the question, her answer coming in low, quick words.  
  
"Because it wouldn't be proper. I was not part of the hunt." Irileth said, making Anya sigh.   
  
She was tired of this game of propriety and didn't have the patience to put up with it any longer. These people wanted love without the risk, and that just didn't happen. She shook her head, making her surroundings spin. Mara wasn't a miracle worker. Prayers alone wouldn't do anything to open a heart and give courage to those without it.  
  
"You could have gone anyway. Hulda runs an inn, not a club."  
  
"What you propose is impossible. If you are going to help, then let us talk about that."  
  
"I am trying to help, but you don't want it. Not really." Anya said, shoulders sagging in a dispirited way. This was tiresome and depressing. Here she was taking the risk and doing the matchmaking, but it was harder than fighting giants. The alcohol made her maudlin, thinking about how these people would die without making a move and she couldn't do anything about it. The thought hit a little too close to home for her, but at least she was willing to take a risk, if the opportunity presented itself. She was no coward, not in battle and not in love. With that thought, Anya was ready to leave, but she turned back and faced the other woman.  
  
"Look Irileth," Anya was aware that she was slurring, but she had to get this out. Her words felt like a revelation, and they were impatient in her mouth. "I know what it's like to be alone all the time. To have so much duty to attend to that it takes over your life, that your honor won't let you set aside. But it's lonely, so lonely. You know that I know what it's like." She shook her head angrily, feeling tears sting at her eyes. This wasn't about her, and Anya took a breath and started talking again.  
  
"You shouldn't be alone. You don't have to be. There's someone that wants you, wants to be with you because you are who you are. That's so, so hard to find." Anya pounded a fist against the table to make her point, and Irileth narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Keep it down, Dragonborn, or I will be forced to remove you."  
  
Anya waved a hand. "Alright, alright. Just think about it, okay? No one wants you to change or give up your duty for them. He wants to share it with you, stand beside you. I can't tell you what I'd give for that." Irileth wasn't looking at her anymore, and Anya closed her eyes. The night air was cool against her hot skin, and she was tired.   
  
It was difficult to keep saving people that didn't want to be saved, when she was dying to save herself. Anya was nearly spent, done trying to do what she could for this wretched country full of people too proud for their own good.  
  
"Irileth, I can take care of our guest, if you're done talking to her." Balgruuf's voice said from somewhere distant. She hadn't known he was there, but Anya didn't really care at the moment.  
  
She'd opened her eyes to look out at the night sky, to see the moons out in the distance. It was another gorgeous night in Skyrim, but instead of basking in the beauty as she normally did, all she felt was an ache. Always alone when she looked up at the sky, riding her horse or coming out of some Dwemer ruin, and the weight of alone was crushing her. Even when she hired a bow or a mage to be at her back, she felt alone, because they weren't her friends and didn't understand. Sure, they became friends - she tried to be friends with everyone. But Skyrim had a way of turning solitude into pain, making her feel raw. Maybe it wasn't so hard to understand Irileth's reluctance after all, but she didn't want to share in it.  
  
Behind her, Balgruuf and Irileth were still talking, but she paid them no mind. The door opened and closed, and she supposed they'd left until she heard Balgruuf speaking to her.  
  
"You've been to the Bannered Mare, I take it?"  
  
"You know the answer to that, my Jarl." Anya said, and he chuckled.  
  
"I suppose I do. You should get some rest, Dragonborn."  
  
"I would if I could. Farengar hasn't come back yet, which means he's still at my house with Lydia, and I think they need some privacy." Anya laughed, the sound strange and hollow. "At least I'll be gone soon enough and they can carry on how they please."  
  
"Come on, Anya." Balgruuf said. "I'll put you to bed." An arm snaked around her waist, and she was too tired and drunk to protest. Not too tired to notice that they weren't leaving Dragonsreach, that Balgruuf was escorting her to his own suite, but she said nothing all the way there.  
  
She said nothing when he sat her on his bed and disarmed her, then took off her boots and gauntlets. She said nothing when he loosened her armor so she could ease out of it, and turned his back so she wouldn't be indecent in front of him. Stripped down to her linen undertunic, she slid under his blankets, altogether too tired to make sense of the situation. Balgruuf came over and tucked the blanket in around her.  
  
"Why are you doing this? You don't even like me." The question was the only thing in her tired mind, and the drink made her even more blunt.  
  
"I do like you, now. You needed to rest, away from everything. I will tell my guards not to have anyone disturb you."  
  
"Where will you go?" She asked, pulling the blanket up to her chin.  
  
Balgruuf laughed softly. "There are plenty of other beds in Dragonsreach. Sleep well." He said, brushing a hair from her face before getting up and leaving.  
  
Briefly, she wondered if he was going to sleep with someone else. A maid, perhaps? Or maybe just in the next room with his kids. Wherever he went was a mystery that she only contemplated for a short while, with sleep nipping at her heels. When she finally gave in, Anya fell into a dreamless sleep for once.


	7. Chapter 7

It was dark all around her when Anya woke up, not yet morning. As she sat up, she had no idea where she was, but was definitely in a bed. Head heavy, she moved carefully, slowly as she stood up and tried to navigate the room.

With a crash, she sent something flying off the nightstand she hadn't known was next to her. Anya let out a curse, and then sat back down on the bed. The room had a familiar smell, a place she'd been before, something more pleasant than and lived in than most of her own houses. Searching her memory, she flitted through the night before. The Bannered Mare, yes, drinking far too much. She remembered that. Talking to Irileth. Oh, Divines. She was in Balgruuf's bed.

As if on cue, the doors to the room opened, making her squint in the faint light they let in. Balgruuf himself came in, carrying a lantern and something else that didn't illuminate the room. She saw him peering at her with concern washed over his face and felt guilty that she'd been a drunken wreck in Dragonsreach - enough that he'd given her his bed. He looked different than usual, less ornery and more friendly as he came into the room. Anya tried to act as if she were refreshed and not confused and hungover, but was sure she was making a poor show of it.

"I see you're awake." He said.

"I'm sorry I knocked over whatever that was." She said waving a hand at the nightstand. "It's too dark in here."

"It's alright, Anya. Here, drink this." He said, handing her a tankard. So this was what was in his other hand. "It's watered wine. Should help you feel better." He explained a second after she'd pressed the rim to her lips and was gulping it down eagerly.

He righted whatever it was she'd knocked off the nightstand - it looked like a candlestick - and put the lantern on a table before siting down next to her on the bed. The room was lit and he could have sat anywhere, but he sat by her. Anya nearly sober was less careful than she would be in either state, and she leaned against Balgruuf. Not because she was drunk, because it had been so long since she just rested and he'd taken care of her without asking for anything in return. A guard could have taken her home to Lydia just as easily, but by whatever fluke and twist of fate they were connected through this quest, through Mara and his prayers and her destiny.

It wasn't destiny that distracted her as they sat together. The warmth of his shoulder seeped into her skin through his clothes - he'd discarded the furs for something lighter to sleep in. Balgruuf had strength and muscle beneath that circlet and frown he always wore, and he smelled like tundra cotton and lavender, perhaps from a recent bath or maybe all of his washbasins had oil in them. She didn't care.

He was disarmingly male as they sat there, masculine and rough in places that countered her femininity. She pressed the tankard into her lap hard, trying to ignore the growing curiosity that had awakened within her. Would his chest make a good pillow once they were done? Anya could feel the tension of sex pulling in the air, and all she had to do was shift a little, closer to his lap and place a kiss on his jaw. Balgruuf wouldn't stop her she knew, because every shift of her body made his breath hitch and she heard his almost disappointed exhalations.

The ancient mockery called fate threw Anya a cruel glimpse, and for a moment she saw the proud faces of her parents if they'd known what had become of her. A Jarl! Finally someone suitable for our special girl - the Dragonborn. Her features reflected in the faces that had made them seemed sweeter and gentler, not like the daughter that slammed a warhammer into bandits and screamed in a language so old it hurt other humans to hear it. They were better than her.

She reached out to put the tankard somewhere, away, anywhere - because she was far too aware of her skin and needed to banish the warmed metal before it took in more of her scorching heat. His hand closed over hers as she searched in the near-darkness and she drew in a deep breath. She was not drunk, but not herself and that was exactly what she needed. Anya slammed her lips into his, hard and dominating, but he was patient where she wasn't and after his initial shock, he coaxed the sweetness from her. Balgruuf opened his mouth under hers and slid her onto his lap, hands running up and down her sides, to her hair and down to her arse and back up again as they kissed.

It was supposed to be as rough as she felt, but he had an elegance that came from experience she didn't have. Like river water rushing over a stone, the passage of time smoothing away the rough edges, so was he with her. Their kiss was long, heat tempered by patience and practice. Over and over, they repeated the same part until there was nothing left but the want, the flame under control at last. Long-fingered hands, softer than she'd expected undressed her, murmuring appreciations for her body as each part was bared to the dim light.

When he pushed her back onto the bed, she obliged to let him continue leading the dance. Watching him begin to unravel fascinated her, a hand at her breast, then a mouth that moved too slow to taste all the skin it wanted to capture, and a body that could only wait for so long. Anya was ready - all mewling noises and pressing hot kisses of her own against his chest, neck, chin and lips, every place she could reach - when he descended tongue first between her legs.

Teasing, feathery swipes were coordinated with the thrust of a finger inside of her, and it felt so decidedly better than good, she didn't know how to classify it. When had a man last worshiped her so thoroughly? Before Skyrim, she knew that. She rocked hips against his jaw, a release close on the horizon once he started suckling Dibella's pearl. She came with a strangled 'Balgruuf' and a fistful of his hair.

The rolling pleasure was still coasting through her veins when he hilted himself between her legs. Balgruuf tried to maintain his earlier restraint, managing for a while to do so with Anya underneath him. When she indicated she wanted to move - switching positions so that she could be on top, that veneer of control broke. Underneath her hips with her breasts bouncing in his face, Balgruuf grew wild. He moved his head so that he would be slammed into her chest with every upstroke, any opportunity to fondle her anew. She moved quicker and he with her, crashing into her with such force Anya was sure that the plates on the table were rattling in the background.

A steady stream of muttered curses warned her before she could feel Balgruuf's climax, their frenzied dance not giving her enough contact to sense it rippling through him. They were rough at the end, he pulled her hair and she arched her back, clenching hard around him. One sustained moment and then they both collapsed - she rolling away from him on the bed. There was no desire to be stuck together with sweat and whatever else lay between them.

When she was no longer too hot and in need of space, she met him halfway in the bed. Balgruuf pulled her towards him, closing the gap and Anya nestled into his arm the way she would if he were her lover. It almost felt like he was.

"I thought you didn't like me." Anya said, repeating the same sentiment she'd voiced before he put her to bed.

"I more than _like_ you now."

"But why not before?"

Balgruuf sighed. "You were annoying, Dragonborn. But I have learned to appreciate your quirks."

Anya was satisfied with the answer, but countered with one of her own. "You are still annoying, my Jarl. And this doesn't make me your mistress. I have a mission to finish."

He didn't answer, but Anya realized she'd left him without a way to say much at all. She settled for listening to him breathe, to feeling him beneath her and to the quiet that they shared that never felt oppressive. It was enough.


	8. Chapter 8

If she was supposed to be grateful or even something approximating joyful, Anya was failing miserably at it.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Balgruuf's breath licking flames over her skin, she could smell him - that damn tundra cotton and lavender, she could taste him, honey and wine on the edge of her very being. Even with the comfort of her own bed, under her own furs, she still had the electric tingle buzzing through her, a reminder she didn't need of distraction that could derail all of her work.

Anya had returned to Breezehome as the sun was just rising. Lydia wouldn't think it strange that she was out all night, especially not if she were distracted by Farengar. The house is quiet but not cold when she comes in, but instead of finding Lydia up and about as was usual, she's still in bed. There was no reason to bother her housecarl, and Anya wanted to be alone with her own thoughts.

Balgruuf the Greater. Well, he'd certainly proven that moniker was accurate even if it was bestowed for reasons other than his bed prowess. Without bidding, her mind replayed bits of their union at random times during the day, making her breath catch with every memory. Could one night between them blossom into a relationship? It was with a great bit of hesitation she even let herself explore how much she liked him, how much she could like him.

All of this complication because she was drunk and lonely and talked too much. He hadn't pressed his advantage, but he hadn't needed to. In the end, she'd wanted him but only the Divines would know why. By daylight, she wasn't quite sure what lay between them. In the past she'd been a useful tool for him, but not much more than that. Now he'd shown her a more private side, tenderness and humanity under the robes of a Jarl. Balgruuf didn't seem as intimidating once she'd felt his beard against the inside of her thighs.

After some thought, she realized why she was so bothered - she liked her isolation. It was comfortable, and expected for the dragonborn. No one pressed her to come to dinner or be part of a group. There were expectations of her, but nothing mundane, like having to find a dinner dress or make smalltalk. Being alone and all the freedom it gave her was precisely what she'd wanted when she ventured towards Skyrim. Save for the rare times like joining the hunters at the Bannered Mare, Anya lived in her solitude like a security blanket. The problem was - she liked Balgruuf too.

The trip to Whiterun wasn't supposed to have been about her needs, and yet, she was facing them down anyway. He'd broken down her self-made prison of cheerfulness and stripped her bare, giving her what she needed without her asking for it. The rare feeling of exposure and vulnerability made her cranky and added to her fear.

She stayed in that day, for the most part. Anya slept some, ate away her hangover, stared into her fire and avoided Lydia's gaze. After a pointed suggestion from Lydia, Anya took a walk to the market before she could 'wear a tread into the floor'. Dragon blood was never meant to be idle. After wandering around the market a bit, a little conversation with Carlotta, she decided to swallow her pride and head up to Dragonsreach and talk with Irileth or Hrongar and see how much damage her drunken advice had done.

No one paid any attention to her when she came in. After the bright light of outside, she let her eyes adjust to the dimness of indoors, standing just aside from where she'd come in. The maids busied themselves cleaning around her, as they always did, not bothering to spare her a glance. When she finally moved and passed the guards, they gave her their usual cool nods and one made a comment about how good it was to see the Harbinger of the Companions. Normal stuff. Part of her was expecting otherwise. There had to have been guards that heard them, people who knew about her and Balgruuf's night together, but no one betrayed a hint so far.

As she drew closer to the throne, she could see the man himself, but had no desire to go to him. Deep in conversation with Proventus, with Irileth nearby, he didn't look over at her. She was about to take refuge away from where his eyes could find her, perhaps talk to Farengar when a most unfamiliar sound stopped her dead in her tracks.

Balgruuf laughed. It wasn't loud, but the sound carried around the room magnificently. A deep, husky chuckle that made Anya remember all too well the sound of his whisper in her ear. She didn't dare turn, but the sound came again, unmistakably from Balgruuf. It was as if the two of them had traded places. Balgruuf was irrepressibly sunny up in Dragonsreach, while Anya wore a frown that turned easily into a scowl, her mind overfull with thoughts. She made her feet obey her commands once again and drifted away, with a mind to talk to Farengar and see if he knew anything.

It was an unlikely lead, but she had no wish to approach anyone else. With Farengar so preoccupied by Lydia, she doubted how much attention he was paying to everything else, but he would likely know any big news. Like if there were a rumor about her sleeping with Balgruuf. She hated herself a little, thinking of how much room the situation was taking up in her head, and how she should be contemplating a way to finish her mission for Mara.

"Hey, you're here a lot now." Nelkir stopped her just before she was about to duck into Farengar's alcove and away from the eyes of the court. The boy was much more talkative once she'd removed the daedric blade that had been whispering to him. She'd hoped that the "Whispering lady" would take more of an interest in her and abandon the boy, but daedra never really did what was expected of them.

"Yeah, I guess I am. How are you?"

Nelkir shrugged his scrawny shoulders. "Alright, I guess. I mean, I'm stuck here."

"Why are you stuck here? Can't you go and play down in the market?"

Nelkir gave a hard laugh, a sound that shouldn't have come from a child. "No. It's _too dangerous_."

Anya snorted. She'd seen the jarl's son in Morthal running about with the other children all around the town. Either Irileth was being overcautious, which she suspected was the case, or there was a real threat against Balgruuf's children. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the young boy to just go out anyway, but she stopped herself.

"That's too bad. I'll tell you what, I don't mind playing a few games when I'm here."

Nelkir gave a noncommittal shrug, that Anya took for a positive answer. She had no idea what they'd do together - perhaps play tag, hide and seek would give him a very unfair advantage. Hrongar interrupted her thoughts before she had a chance to suggest it to the boy. She hadn't noticed him approach, but he stood next to Nelkir.

"Why don't you go see if you can help in the kitchens, nephew." He suggested. "I need to talk to the Dragonborn."

Nelkir gave another shrug, but headed off towards the direction of the kitchens. Both Anya and Hrongar watched the child slump away, and Anya could picture him not too many years in the future as a moody teenager. She hoped by then he found something he liked more than listening to secrets. Maybe alchemy - a thoughtful subject like that might draw him out - or give him the means to poison anyone in his way.

"You're good with him." Hrongar said, just as she was thinking about what an utter failure she'd been at comforting him.

"Not really. He's not a bad kid, just lonely."

"He hardly says more than a few words to anyone else." Hrongar turned towards her, but didn't quite meet her eye as he spoke again. "I thought about having children, because it's my duty, but I never wanted to bring rivals to my brother's heirs."

She nodded in understanding. Family politics could make Skyrim as messy as Cyrodiil. "I can respect that. Keep it simple."

"What would be said of me if I took a bride that couldn't have children but once in a century?" He mused. "That I was avoiding my duty or just selfish?"

"How about that you found someone you cared for to spend your life with. And if you're worried about children, the war left plenty of orphans. But I think you're just throwing up roadblocks again." Anya said. After the night before, she'd thought it was the drink that made her be plain with her speech, but clearly it was her frustration. She could feel it bubbling within her, taking every word Hrongar said and dismissing it.

Which is how she missed the important part. "Wait, bride?"

Hrongar smiled at her, an unusual expression on his face, but it highlighted the similarities between him and Balgruuf. He was nearly handsome. "I appreciate whatever you said to Irileth last night. She came to me, and we are together." He said, not elaborating. Anya returned his smile, the feeling foreign after a day marked by scowling and grimaces.

"Glad to help." She said. With that, there was nothing left for her in Dragonsreach. She felt eyes on her back as she walked away, but whatever they wanted could be solved another day.

Her duty to Mara was done, even if had taken liberal amounts of alcohol, drunken cajoling and bad advice. The weight of duty no longer weighed upon her shoulders, but she still had a hard knot in her chest. There was no reason to stay in Whiterun for much longer. Anya wasn't sure how that made her feel.


	9. Chapter 9

It almost seemed impossible that such a small amount of time had gone by, but it had been just over a fortnight since she'd come riding into Whiterun on a mission from Mara. The situation there no long demanded her presence, and she didn't dare linger too much longer. There was too much that could happen if Anya stuck around, like running into the Jarl she was so desperately trying to avoid. 

After she spent time with the Companions, checking in with everyone and picking up another job, Anya got ready to set off for Riften. She needed to tell Dinya that the work was done, and the goddess would be appeased. For the time being, at least. It was her hope that there were no more requests from Mara at this time, because Anya planned on traveling to Windhelm and settling into her house there. She didn't really like the city, but wanted to be away from Whiterun, and close enough to travel to the College of Winterhold. There were duties that needed her oversight there, even if Tolfdir did manage very well in her absence.

Part of her was wary of going in Riften, in case another prayer to Mara needed her expertise. Anya was tired, and chances for her to rest were vanishingly rare. She figured she could get a day or two in Windhelm without anyone knowing she was there, and she'd play it by ear until she went to the college.

She knew that he'd start looking for her eventually. Someone will come with a message from him and he'll demand a meeting - he doesn't even have to come chase after her himself because he's the Jarl and she's a citizen. But that didn't mean she couldn't take time and riddle it all out in her head, why she felt like this toward a man that could barely tolerate her until recently, because of all the things Anya achieved in Whiterun - falling in bed with Balgruuf was the one that confused her the most. It got under her skin and lived there, making her uncomfortable even in the depths of her slumber, her dreams stalked by the same man she so adroitly avoided while awake.

But until then she could go, as was her right. There was nothing more alluring than the promise of new adventure, and Anya was eager to have a new distraction. But first, there was Riften and the conclusion of her duties to Mara.

"Are you leaving so soon, my Thane?" Lydia asked as she watched Anya sort through her pack. There were entirely too many books in there, things she'd meant to sell to Belethor earlier in her visit but hadn't gotten around to doing.

"I have to go and check in with the priestess of Mara, and then there are other places I must visit." Anya said vaguely. Part of her missed Argis, her burly housecarl in Markarth. It seemed like it had been an age since she'd gotten the summons that drew her from the Reach to Riften. He never asked so many questions, but she put down Lydia's chattiness to the same thing that kept the color high in her cheeks and her skin glowing - she was in love. 

"Well, you've done good work. All of the town is talking about Irileth and Hrongar. The market is absolutely buzzing today. It's as close to a scandal as Whiterun has ever gotten."

"All the better for me to leave then, before others figure out my part in it." Anya said decisively, tossing all the books and miscellany into a chest to lighten her load. "And I can give you and Farengar some privacy. It should be good for the two of you."

Lydia had the good grace to blush, but her smile showed her appreciation. Envy touched Anya for a split second when she wished that she could smile like that about her own life - about Balgruuf. She shut the thought down before it could fully form. Unlike Lydia and Farengar, she and Balgruuf were not falling in love.

Not long after she and her housecarl said their goodbyes, Lydia remaining at Breezehome and Anya headed towards the carriage outside the city walls. She hoped that the dust of the road and distance might grant her a measure of the clarity she'd lost beneath the Jarl's hips in Dragonsreach.

Her journey was quick and uneventful, arriving after nightfall in Riften. Instead of reporting to the temple, she elected for a night's sleep first and went to Honeyside. In the morning, she rose early and made her way up to the temple, intent on making her report and getting out of Riften as quickly as possible. She wasn't running, but felt her own discomfort thrice-fold in the city. Riften had always made her uneasy.

Dinya Balu looked pleased to see her. Anya's visit was a formality, the woman had already seen her success. Still, she wanted to be done with it all and made a report. Whatever coin that would be pressed into her hands as a reward would go right back into the donation box for Dinya's husband Maramal to collect later. She started by saying that Lydia and Farengar were happy together, and that the first part of her mission had been a quick success. 

"Be at ease, child of Mara. Even our smallest attempts are guided by her hand."

After a short prayer and blessing, Anya was free of her duty. Without stopping in the market to trade, she gathered up her things and left, setting out on foot for Windhelm. No matter how far she went, even as the city of Riften and its autumnal colors were disappearing behind her, Anya never lost the feeling of unease that had settled around her. Maybe she just hadn't gone far enough away yet.

Back in Whiterun, Lydia started taking her dinners up at Dragonsreach as she did before Anya purchased a home in the city. She and Farengar would walk back to the small house together, and more often than not, he would stay with her. The villagers took her new romance with the Court Wizard in stride, more concerned with gossiping about Hrongar and Irileth. Not all of the Nords in the city were Stormcloaks, but Hrongar was the Jarl's brother and Thane of Whiterun. His announcement that he would be taking a Dunmer bride still hadn't been the most popular course of action and had tongues wagging. 

Whenever Lydia ventured into the market, only a few remarked on the Dragonborn's absence and only Carlotta Valentia expressed any regret that Anya was gone. Most people took it in stride - she'd never stayed in one place for long after all. She'd be back, and they more looked forward to that certainty. It took a few nights before anyone in the Keep asked about Anya, but it was Hrongar that broke the silence.

His own happiness had been dulled by watching his brother close back up. His joviality had been too brief, and upon investigation, Balgruuf had grown closed-mouthed and snappish. It was only through the indiscreet whisperings of a well-meaning guard that Hrongar found out his brother had slept with the dragonborn - who'd then left without a word after he'd seen her talking to Nelkir. He understood Balgruuf's change in mood, but could think of no way to help his brother.

"Where did she go?" Hrongar asked Lydia, in no mood for niceties.

"Back to Riften, to speak to the priestess. After that, I'm not sure. She said she had other responsibilities to attend to." Lydia frowned, recalling the conversation. She hadn't noticed at the time, but thinking back made her realize Anya had been in a rush to leave. "She seemed in a rush." Lydia explained.

Hrongar let the woman get back to her meal with Farengar. He would talk to Balgruuf about it later, if his brother was in an amenable mood. This was one area where he hoped that he and his brother were vastly different, because they'd argued for years on and off about Hrongar finally acting on his feelings for Irileth. It was only because of the intervention of the Dragonborn that he'd finally been spurred into action.

But Balgruuf proved to be just as stubborn as his brother. When Hrongar finally get him to relent, a task that took mead and a threat to challenge him to a fistfight - Balgruuf still wasn't very forthcoming.

"I should never have interfered in her business. She wasn't here for me, I knew that. Still, I wish the foolish woman hadn't left without speaking to me again."

"Summon her back. She's Thane of Whiterun Hold, she will come if you ask."

"No, not unless my city needs the dragonborn. I have too much respect for her to call her here for myself."

"Pray to Mara then. It got her here before." Hrongar advised.

Balgruuf shook his head, dismissing the idea. There was no further mention of it, Balgruuf waving away all of his brother's suggestions for bringing Anya back. He wanted her, but he wanted her to come back on her own. 

The next morning, when he visited the shrine of Talos, it didn't seem so outlandish. He muttered a few words to the goddess while looking at the lavender that grew under the Gildergreen tree. It was strange that the lavender reminded him of her - Anya had smelled of sweat, wine and mead when he'd held her close that night, but she was called to his mind when he gazed upon the tiny purple blossoms. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that his hastily muttered prayer would be enough to bring her back, but it calmed him. It calmed him every time he repeated it for a week, until it didn't anymore. He let his daughter Dagny cut the lavender in the Keep and put it in a vase next to her bed.

#####

She'd turned around before she ever got to Windhelm. She ran as far as she could, and then when it wasn't fast enough for her liking, she bought a horse to hasten her pace to Whiterun. In the back of her mind, she could feel him there - just a presence that lent meaning to each step and grew larger as she got closer to Whiterun. Anya was sure that even if she'd gone to Morrowind, she wouldn't have been able to escape the feeling of him that was encircling her. The time alone with her thoughts had finally provided her with an answer - she didn't want to escape him, just understand.

But true comprehension was the realm of gods and fools alone. Anya could settle for just going with her gut feeling, that she was wrong to walk away from Jarl Balgruuf. There was nothing to be gained by hiding from him, and what affection their was between them would sour quickly if she didn't address it. 

Somehow, in the middle of doing her duty for Mara, her own need was exposed. It was uncomfortable for her, but it wasn't something that she could simply set aside. Night after night, she could feel Balgruuf's lips on her skin, hear his breath hitch as she moved beneath him, could feel the pressure of his fingertips as he pressed harder and harder into her. 

The Jarl of Whiterun, mouth hot against her neck, breathing her name as reverentially as one would say a prayer. That wasn't something that could just be forgotten.

They needed to talk, more than just her paltry excuses for leaving on parchment. She wanted to know if he felt her like lightning in the air, a current buzzing down his skin. She wondered if he could close his eyes without seeing her, because she couldn't confront the darkness without it sharpening the image of him in her mind's eye. If this was more than just sex, enough for her to be afraid, she needed to summon her courage and face it, face him. And if it was less, there was always the road to Windhelm or Markarth - any city in Skyrim would do - so she could lose herself again.

It was night when she made it to the gates, the stars blinking overhead, dancing a shimmering dance to a song not meant for her ears. She went straight to Dragonsreach after getting her horse settled into the stables, near running in the darkness. Divines granted her speed and she used it, moving through the nearly empty square without being stopped, the wind aiding her feet. With each step up towards the huge building the fluttering her stomach grew, but she was steady on her course. Anya wasn't going to be more afraid of Jarl Balgruuf than she had been of Alduin, that simply didn't make sense.

When she got to his bedchambers, he was rising up to meet her. She was sure he'd on bended knee, praying.

"What are you doing?" Anya asked.

"I could see you coming." He said. "And it is unwise to neglect showing thanks to the Divines, especially when one has favored you. I needed to thank Mara for answering my prayers to send you back." Balgruuf said as he straightened his robes. "Unless you're going to run away again."

"How could I stay away from this city with all that's going on? You're going to need the Dragonborn here for quite a while, I think." Anya moved closer to him and took his hand. She was panting a little, tired from running all the way through Whiterun. "If you want me here, that is."

In answer, Balgruuf pulled her close. "It is my honor as Jarl, and my privilege." He whispered, and then lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss. A homecoming kiss, that she never expected, but wanted more than anything else. A kiss that reminded her of bright blue skies, snow covered mountains, tundra cotton and hearty mead - just about everything she loved about Skyrim.


End file.
